


Practicalities of Magic

by inkwolf222



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Andrea Never Left, F/F, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates, True Love, after Paris
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24537130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwolf222/pseuds/inkwolf222
Summary: Andrea is not what she seems. She is, in fact, a centuries old witch roaming the Earth with her two best friends in search of knowledge and adventure. But most importantly, they are in search of their Bonded. What happens when Past, Present and Future collide to bring about prophecies, mysteries and true love in a world where Magic and Mundane must work together to ensure Cosmic Balance is maintained, and Evil will never reign supreme.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	Practicalities of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This plot-bunny has refused to leave me alone for the longest time, and finally I have found the time and inspiration to write it. Rating and archive warnings are subject to change, and further tags and relationships are on the horizon. Come along on this magical adventure and enjoy the ride.

Andrea sighed as the barista handed her the scalding cup of coffee. Miranda was in one of her moods today and this was Andrea’s sixth coffee run in half as many hours. Everything just kept going wrong. The layouts were late, tomorrow’s photoshoot had to be postponed, Banana Republic had a mix up with the skirt deliveries and the run-through sounded like an utter wreck before she left with Miranda not missing an opportunity to point out the smallest and most inconsequential discrepancies. Most days Andrea would admire Miranda’s eye for detail and her drive for perfection, but at the moment, all it served was to drive her mad. If she didn’t find Miranda so fascinating, she would have quit a long time ago. It wasn’t as if she needed the money, she had enough of that to last her several lifetimes. Though, being immortal, having a steady income meant that her riches never diminished. Even if it was a lowly assistant’s salary.

Her thoughts turned to her boss again. Andrea didn’t understand what it was that drew her towards the snowy-haired woman. When she went for her interview at Elias-Clarke initially, it was just to try something new. She had just finished her umpteenth college degree and, in search of something she hadn’t done already, moved to New York with her friends, Doug and Lily. Her initial excitement, however, didn’t prepare her for the shock when she first looked into those indescribable stormy blue eyes. She could feel her magic flaring for a second before settling into a gentle buzzing along her skin. It was as if Miranda could stare directly into her soul. If she hadn’t known better, Andrea would have sworn by the Goddess that they were in the beginning stages of bonding.

Andrea sighed again. She had acquired many things in her one thousand years of existence, most of which is knowledge, but she had never had the privilege of being blessed with a Bonded. She had travelled the world, many times over, in search of her supposed completion but she was always left wanting. She often wondered if she had been born without a destined union because she was one of the last-born true magic wielders. Sure, there were others born with limited powers, but none possessed true magic. She was almost the last of her kind, with only a handful of witches and warlocks left, all of them part of the ‘Last-Born’ and none of them a Bonded pair. Witches and warlocks might have been immortal, but they weren’t invulnerable. They could die just like any other human but unlike humans, magic wielders had to complete a Soul-Bond before they became fertile. Thus, with none of the Last-Born able to find their Bonded, most gave up and went into hiding, acquiring knowledge and wealth from behind closed doors. Andy, Lily and Doug were different, though. They wanted to experience the changing world, learn new languages, see new sights, meet new people. Lily and Doug found their niche, Lily returning to the art world every chance she got, and Doug only discovering his in his previous ‘life’: finance. It was a cut-throat world, but Doug seemed to thrive. She was genuinely happy for them, even though she couldn’t claim the same. She had been a musician, a singer, a doctor, a preacher, a farmer, a politician, and, most recently, a lawyer, amongst many others. Her friends frequently joked that with all of her skills and knowledge, she could probably run Elias-Clarke entirely on her own. Yet here she was, fetching coffee like some fresh-faced, 20-something wannabe. Sometimes she resented the grunt work but one look at those icy blue eyes and Andrea felt herself melt.

She heaved another sigh as she shook her head to get rid of the melancholy thoughts while taking the elevator up to Runway’s offices, coffee in hand. _What good is being an all-powerful witch when I don’t even use my magic?_ She thought. It was a point of pride for her not to use her magic either for her advantage, or to influence others unnecessarily when working a mortal job. If there was one thing she learned early on in her long life, it was that cheating was never worth the effort. Even as a lawyer, she only used her magic to ensure others spoke the truth, never to influence a jury’s decision. This job, however, had her rethinking many of her self-imposed rules. She looked at the cup, the liquid inside having cooled considerably in the winter air. More so than any of the others she had already fetched for her Queen. She let out a bemused snort at the stray thought before looking at the cup again. _Maybe a little wouldn’t hurt…_

She watched happily at the surprise that flitted across the editor’s face at the practically boiling cup she just handed her. She’d been working for the fashion maven for six months, but the brief flash of delight had a resounding effect, warming Andrea from the inside. Maybe using a little magic in this job wouldn’t do any harm, especially if she wasn’t over-using it and if only to avoid another incident like the first night she delivered the Book. A shiver ran down her spine.

_Just a little bit…_

* * *

Miranda could barely control her surprise as the scalding coffee ran down her throat. The weather had taken a turn for the worst, with snow suddenly falling in sheets, in the last half hour. She had expected the coffee to almost be frozen solid yet, once again, Andrea had managed the impossible.

Andrea.

Something about the girl had completely enraptured her from the very start. To say that Miranda had been impressed when she first saw her would be an understatement. Andrea had been dressed in black Bill Blass slacks and a white blouse along with a pair of Christian Louboutins. Understated yet classy and elegant, she was the complete opposite of any of Miranda’s former assistants, including her current First Assistant, Emily. She didn’t show-off her designer clothing, not everything she wore came from the latest collection, nothing was gaudy, over-the-top, or screamed “Look at me!”. Her make-up was always light and minimal, merely enhancing her natural features, and most importantly, for all her designer clothing and classical taste in style, she didn’t suck up to Miranda. In fact, the insolent little girl didn’t even know who she was! She didn’t know, or seemingly care, who Miranda Priestly was, and even after working for the infamous Dragon Lady, Miranda could quite confidently say that, outside of her family and her closest friends, Andrea was the only person who isn’t scared of her. In fact, the girl never was to begin with. She had given her the customary Ice Queen glare after her head-to-toe perusal, but her smile never wavered and she didn’t so much as flinch. That’s what intrigued Miranda as she read over the girl’s resume initially, but what really caught her attention were the girl’s eyes. When she finally finished her perusal of the resume, she looked up to find herself almost drowning in obsidian orbs. It was almost as if the room crackled for a few moments while the hair on her arms stood on end. It was only years of practice and her iron-will that kept her from gasping out loud. Andrea carried herself with such an understated confidence, secure in the knowledge of who she is and comfortable in her own skin, a rare quality in most people twice her age. But her eyes? They held an ancient quality, a wisdom and world-weariness never seen in one so young. She almost missed the barely noticeable widening of crystalline cognac in her own efforts to strangle her gasp before Andrea did the oddest thing. She _relaxed._ Her polite smile curled a bit further, hinting at a hidden mischievousness. Her posture, while remaining perfect, lost its rigidity. It was the strangest reaction anyone had ever had in her presence and intrigued her even further.

Five minutes of conversation proved her to be extremely intelligent, quick witted and completely disinterested in fashion, yet her eyes betrayed her underlying fire, her hunger to learn. Interest piqued and overwhelmed with innate curiosity, Miranda hired the girl thinking she was somebody to mould and shape in her image. She would test her mettle, push her to the boundaries as she had never done with any assistant before her, imprint on her the importance of certain people, duties and alliances, mentor her and teach her everything she knew, break her down just enough to rebuild her the way Miranda wanted to, her heir to the Runway throne so to speak.

Oh, how wrong she had been proven. Not only did the girl refuse to let Miranda shape her into anybody or anything other than who she wanted to be, she turned around and decided to teach Miranda a few lessons instead. She was almost sure the raven-haired beauty would have deserted her after the stunt she had pulled in Paris, forever shattering her rose-tinted glasses, but instead she had merely given Miranda a look full of such understanding and sympathy it had left the editor baffled. Instead of vitriol, she had supported and encouraged Nigel, proving her moral compass was not as black and white as most thought. Using her understanding of those infinite shades of grey to elevate the snowy dragon's opinion of her once again by repairing Miranda and Nigel's life-long friendship. Somehow, a friendship Miranda had thought doomed in her effort to save everybody's careers and reputations was salvaged by Andrea's ability see, examine and explain the bigger picture to a shaken Nigel, strengthening their bond and trust without her knowledge, until Miranda was able to pull her closest friend aside Monday morning and try to explain herself, only to find out it wasn't necessary. All thanks to Andrea, managing to accomplish the seemingly impossible with grace and poise, all while being the best assistant Miranda’s ever had. Not that she’d ever admit it.

Clearing her mind, Miranda turned back to the current disaster that was the February issue. In all fairness it wasn’t as deplorable as she made everything seem, a few minor fixes and extra pictures to a few of the Fashion Week spreads to fill the pages since tomorrow’s photoshoot was cancelled and everything would be acceptable to send to print in two days. Honestly, she just needed an outlet for all her frustrations. On top of being tired and jet-lagged after returning from Paris on Sunday (thank goodness it was last on this year’s Fashion Week circuit), her soon-to-be ex-husband has been harassing her with various claims to her finances and homes, despite the prenup they had signed when they got married. The latest of his futile attempts had arrived last night.

She rubbed her temples in an attempt to alleviate the oncoming headache. Looking down at her desk, she saw two Tylenol in a saucer. Looking up, she just caught Andrea putting the bottle away in her desk drawer. Smiling internally, she quickly swallowed the tablets and turned back to a cowering Jocelyn.

_Maybe today isn’t a complete disaster._

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own. I will be taking creative license with certain parts, but constructive criticism is always welcome.


End file.
